


Fighting Fires

by Raziel12



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/F, Fire Fighters, too hot to handle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raziel12/pseuds/Raziel12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fire fighting is dangerous stuff. When Fang wakes up in the hospital yet again, she'll have to explain herself to a certain pink-haired doctor. And Dr Lightning Farron is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting Fires

**Fighting Fires**

The words seemed to come from far away.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’re getting hurt on purpose.”

Fang knew that voice. There was a hint of concern in it and no small amount of exasperation. It was easy to picture the speaker in her head. Dr Lightning Farron wasn’t the sort of woman people forgot. The last time that Fang had seen her, the good doctor had been dressed in a charcoal pantsuit with a white coat and a frown. 

Apparently, Lightning had found out about Fang’s early return to work from a broken leg, and she hadn’t been the least bit happy about it. Lightning had scolded her like an errant schoolgirl and called Fang’s superiors to inform her that, no, she wasn’t ready to return to work yet.

Fang hadn’t known whether to admire Lightning’s guts or strangle her. In the end, she’d settled for teasing the doctor until she’d stormed off in a huff. Good times.

Right now, however, Fang’s wasn’t in the mood for teasing. Her whole body ached, and it was a struggle just to get her eyes to open. Sure enough, Lightning was there beside her bed. Rather than a charcoal pantsuit, Lightning had opted for dark navy. It looked good on her. Then again, pretty much everything looked good on the doctor, at least in Fang’s opinion.

Fang tried to open her mouth to shoot off a witty remark. It was kind of her thing, plus Lightning was adorable when she blushed. Besides, the doctor had never actually told Fang to stop teasing her. Fang liked to believe that there was even a part of Lightning that liked the attention.

Instead of a witty remark, all Fang got was a sharp stab of pain. She gagged and tried to sit up, only to realise that there was something shoved down her throat. Her eyes widened, and she reached up to pull it out.

Lightning gently but firmly pushed Fang’s hands away from her face and held them down. Fang struggled, but she was too weak to do more than twitch.

“Calm down. You came in with severe smoke inhalation. We had to intubate you. That thing in your throat is to help you breath. So you need to stay still. You’ve also got some burns.” Lightning’s grip loosened, and she rubbed small, soothing circles against the back of Fang’s hands. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

Fang forced herself to calm down. She wasn’t choking. It was just a breathing tube. Slowly, her body relaxed. 

“Can you remember how you got here?” Lightning asked.

Fang’s brows furrowed. And then she remembered. There had been a fire. The call had come in a little before noon: an apartment fire. The fire was supposed to be small and contained to one of the upper apartments. By the time they got there, almost the entire building was in flames. To make matters worse, dozens of residents were still trapped inside.

As the leader of the team, Fang had to make a judgement call. She’d decided to split her team in two. Half of them would try to bring the fire under control. The other half would go with her inside the building to evacuate the remaining residents. It was a mess. The corridors were filled with smoke and fire. The residents were too panicked to listen to instructions. Fang and the others had been forced to carry most of them out.

Fang wasn’t sure how long the whole thing took. She remembered stumbling out of the building alongside Snow with the last few residents. Even the big man was exhausted. Their equipment was heavy, and they’d been forced to haul some of the residents out on their shoulders. That was when one of the others had spotted movement in one of the upper apartments. A mother and child were still trapped up there.

There was no time for Fang to change her equipment for a fresh set, but she wasn’t about to send anyone else into the burning building. She’d gone herself, taking the stairs two at a time, until she reached the top floor. There was so much fire, and the smoke was so thick that she could barely see. Then she heard a baby crying.

She’d barged through a half-burnt wall, grabbed the mother and baby, and run for it. At some point, her equipment began to fail. She remembered the smoke burning her lungs, the fire burning through parts of her suit. She’d shielded the mother and baby with her own body and headed for the ground floor.

The next few minutes were a haze of fire, smoke, and screaming. Every breath became a nightmare. Her eyes watered and stung. Her limbs felt like they were made of lead. She ran on raw instinct until she finally managed to get herself and the mother and baby out of the building. The last thing she could remember was Snow catching her as her legs failed and she fell. Then darkness – until Lightning’s voice had woken her.

What had happened to the mother and baby? Fang tried to rise, but Lightning held her down again. Still, the doctor must have been able to read the question in her eyes.

“They’re a little banged up, but they should be fine, thanks to you.” Lightning pursed her lips. “This is the third time this year you’ve been admitted to my care, Fang. You can’t keep doing this. You –”

Whatever Lightning wanted to say was cut off when the door to Fang’s room all but burst off its hinges. A petite red head charged into the room. She took one look at Fang and started to cry and yell. Fang winced. Vanille had a surprisingly loud voice for someone so petite. The younger woman was angry with Fang for getting sent to the hospital again, proud of her for saving several lives, and pissed at her for scaring her so much.

It took a pink-haired nurse – Serah Farron – to silence Vanille and pull her away from Fang.

“It’s almost midnight, Vanille.” Serah struggled to hold Vanille back as she continued to wave her arms around at Fang. “We’re already bending the rules by letting you stay. You have to keep quiet. Other patients are sleeping.” Her voice softened. “She’s exhausted too. My shift is almost over – we can have some coffee at the nurses’ station, and then I can drive you home. My sister can look after her.”

Vanille glared at Fang for a moment and then nodded. “I’m still annoyed at you, Fang. But I’ll be back tomorrow. You better get well soon.” She huffed. “Let’s go, Serah.”

“She’s been here all night,” Lightning said as she closed the door behind Serah and Vanille. “You’ve been out for about twelve hours.”

Had Lightning been here all this time too? Probably not, she had a lot of patients. But surely she didn’t stay this late everyday. Fang felt a grin tug at the edges of her lips. Had Lightning rearranged her schedule so she could stay back late and watch over her? 

Or was Fang reading too much into things. The first time she’d gone to see Lightning, it had been for a check up on some old injuries. She’d made an absolute mess of it, hitting on the other woman, and peppering her with teasing remarks. Lightning had put a stop to that with a very simple but effective threat: Fang could play nice, or Lightning would schedule her for a colonoscopy. Fang had been equal parts terrified and impressed. And she’d been intrigued too, definitely intrigued.

Their second meeting had gone a little better. Fang had broken her leg while taking care of a large warehouse fire. The leg was fine now, but the break itself had been nasty. It had required surgery and several months of physiotherapy. Given how poorly their first encounter had gone, Fang hadn’t been too optimistic about being under Lightning’s care.

But the doctor had offered her a truce of sorts. Fang kept her teasing to a minimum and Lightning promised not to slip any cyanide into her pain medication. All joking aside, Fang was grateful for Lightning’s cool professionalism as she broke down the damage the injury had caused, what the surgery had done to fix it, and what sort of physiotherapy was needed to restore the limb to full strength. 

Fang might have stopped her teasing and flirting, but she wasn’t blind. Lightning was a good-looking, successful woman. She was also strong, if the way she ordered the other doctors and nurses around was anything to go by. Fang liked strong women. She liked them a lot.

“If you’re wondering why I’m here,” Lightning said. “I’m on the late shift. You’re not the only patient who needs looking after through the night.” She scowled. “Your sister was right about one thing. You need to be more careful. How do you think she would feel if something happened to you?”

Fang looked away. Lightning was right. It was easy to forget everything else except the fire when she was giving orders and running through burning buildings. But Vanille was family – the only family Fang had. She was the whole reason Fang had gone into fire fighting in the first place. A nation-wide shortage of fire fighters had led to a huge recruitment drive. There wasn’t a lot of work for two young women fresh out of an orphanage, so Fang had jumped at the chance to make a decent living.

The training had been gruelling, but Fang had loved it. She enjoyed pushing her body to its limits. She revelled in putting herself under pressure and coming out on top. There was a lot to love: the camaraderie with her colleagues, the thrill and excitement, and the knowledge she was making a real difference in people’s lives. Fire fighting had paid the bills and put Vanille through university. It had also given Fang a sense of identity and a purpose beyond looking after her sister. It was part of her blood now.

The dingy, cramped apartment she and Vanille had shared in a bad part of town was a distant memory. Now, they lived in a cosy house out in the suburbs. It had its own garden, which Vanille had filled with flowers. There was even a territorial squirrel that had moved into the large tree in the backyard. The house was also only a short commute from the university where Vanille worked as a researcher. At least once a week, Snow, Hope, Sazh, and the rest of the gang from the fire station would drop by for dinner and a few drinks. 

“The others were here earlier,” Lightning said. “They wanted to stay, but they were making too much noise. They said they’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

Fang nodded. That was so like the others to get thrown out of a hospital. She could almost picture the look of exasperation on Sazh’s face as he compared them all to a bunch of kids.

“Now that you’re awake, I want to take another look at your injuries.” Lightning put on a pair of gloves. “Since you can’t talk, I want you to tap your finger once for ‘yes’ and twice for ‘no’ if I ask you a question.”

Fang shivered as Lightning began her examination. There was nothing sensual about the doctor’s touch. Lightning’s poked and prodded with swift, clinical detachment. Even so, Fang couldn’t ignore the fact that it was Lightning touching her, Lightning running her hands over the bruises on her ribcage and over the grazes on her legs and arms. A hiss burst from her lips as Lightning eased the bandages off her burns to examine the wounds. Lightning murmured an apology.

“It would be a shame if this scarred,” Lightning said softly as she ran her fingers over the edges of burn on Fang’s shoulder. “You’ve got enough scars already.”

Fang liked to think of them as badges of courage, but it was hard to think too clearly with Lightning touching her. The doctor was extremely thorough, and she even took a few moments to examine Fang’s mouth and throat. What Lightning saw curved her mouth into a deep frown, and Fang had to fight the urge to stare as Lightning leaned over her. The pink-haired woman’s chest was inches from Fang’s face.

Lightning leaned back. “You’ve definitely got some damage to your throat. It should be fixable, but it will be a while before you can go back on duty. We also need to make sure you don’t contract an infection.” She folded her arms over her chest. “A few more minutes in that building and we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. All right. Get some rest. I have another patient to see. And for Maker’s sake, try not to get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

With Lightning out of the room, sleep came surprisingly quickly to Fang. When she woke up the next morning, she was disappointed to find an unfamiliar nurse bustling around in her room. 

The next week passed far more slowly than Fang would have liked. She’d never handled being sick very well. She wanted to be outside in the sunshine doing things. The others came around after work each day to lift her spirits. Apparently, she was going to get some kind of bravery award.

Sazh made a dry remark about the government rewarding suicidal tendencies then softened the words with a fatherly smile. He even had the gall to ruffle Fang’s hair since he knew she couldn’t fight back. Snow and Hope were rays of sunshine, passing on all the little bits of gossip and news from down at the station. Vanille was there as often as her schedule allowed too, mixing her usual good cheer with stern warnings to never, ever scare her like that again.

It was only when the others went home that things got tough. Fang had always hated hospitals. All the sterile, artificial smells sickened her, and it was depressed her to think about how many people came in but never got out. Not even Vanille’s obnoxiously bright get well card could banish the doubts that crept into Fang’s mind when everyone left. She wasn’t on a breathing tube anymore, but her throat was raw and dry. She couldn’t even talk. 

Serah was a huge comfort at those times. The younger woman often worked the late shift, and she made a point of staying with Fang during her breaks. But the only thing that really soothed Fang’s worries was Lightning. The woman arrived late each night, overseeing the emergency ward for a few hours before she went to look after some of the other patients.

Lightning’s demeanour was immensely reassuring. She examined each of Fang’s injuries with practiced calm and explained why Fang felt the way she did and how much longer she could expect to feel that way. It would be bad for a while, Lightning said, but it should pass soon. Lightning seemed to have a lot of time between patients, so she often lingered in a chair beside Fang’s bed. 

Fang wasn’t well enough to speak yet, but she could write. Vanille had given her a notepad with cute, little, golden chocobos on the top right corner of each page.

 _You weren’t always a doctor, were you?_ Fang wrote.

Lightning had her legs crossed and a mug of coffee in her hands. Her coat was slung over the back of the chair. She was slim and elegant, no trace of tiredness on her face despite the time. A necklace of some sort was tucked into her blouse. “What makes you say that?” 

_Your hands,_ Fang wrote. _Doctors don’t have calluses like that on their hands. It took me a little longer to notice, but you don’t walk around like a doctor either. You’re quiet, like a cat._

A thin smile crossed Lightning’s lips. “You’ve been watching me pretty closely. You’re right. I’m ex-military.” Her lips curled. “When I was younger, the military was the only place that paid decently that would take me. Amongst other things, I trained as a medic. When I got out, I decided to get fully qualified. That’s how I ended up here. I like helping people more than shooting them.” She followed Fang’s gaze to her necklace. She tugged it out of her blouse. “You’re wondering about this? These are dog tags, a reminder from when I was in the military.”

There was a flash of something sad in Lightning’s eyes before her expression grew cool again. The dog tags were tucked back into her blouse, but Fang hadn’t missed the fact that there were two sets of tags on that necklace. Maybe one day, Lightning would tell her whom the other set belonged to.

Finally, it was time for Fang to get discharged. She could talk, but her usually smooth, smoky voice sounded more like a rusty chainsaw. It made her cringe just to hear it.

“Don’t worry.” Lightning had escorted her down to the front desk to be discharged. Vanille and the others had formed a welcoming committee outside. “Your voice will be fine in a week or two. You’ll be hitting on nurses again before you know it.” 

Fang flushed. She hadn’t hit on any of the nurses in ages. There was only one person at the hospital she was interested in. “Thanks.” She winced. The words sounded like they’d been forced through a cheese grater.

“Even though you’re being discharged today, you need to come back and see me at least once a week for the next month. You also need to take all of your medication. I will not be pleased if your treatment drags on because you got careless.”

Fang took a step back from the glare on Lightning’s face. It made her wonder if Lightning had been a drill sergeant or something. She glanced at the crowd waiting outside then back at Lightning. There was something she wanted to ask, and she needed to ask it before she lost her nerve.

Those late night conversations had done more than help keep Fang sane. They’d helped her get to know Lightning a lot better. Maybe it was the quiet of the hospital at night, or maybe it was because Lightning finally trusted her, but the pink-haired woman had opened up, at least a little bit. But Fang wanted to know more. Putting on her best smile, she looked at Lightning.

“Say, do you want to, maybe, get coffee sometime?” 

“I can’t.”

Fang bit her lip. That hadn’t gone well at all. “Uh… okay… I mean…”

“Let me finish.” Lightning put one finger on Fang’s lips. “I’m not blind, you know. I’ve seen you staring when you think I’m not looking.” Fang blushed, and Lightning smirked. “But the thing is, I don’t date my patients. Once you’re better though, well, we’ll see.” Lightning pulled a business card out of her pocket and wrote a number on it. “That’s my personal number. Call me on it once we’ve finished up with your treatment. But you need to get better first. If you end up back in hospital, we won’t be able to get that coffee.” 

Fang tucked the card into her pocket. Her lips curved up into a grin. “Consider it done, doctor.” Feeling a little brave, she grabbed a scrap of paper from the front desk and wrote her own number on it. “Feel free to call me anytime. If you need a fire put out, I’m your woman.”

Lightning chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She nodded. “I’ll see you next Wednesday, Fang. You should go say something before they explode.” She pointed through the doors at the others. They were hooting and whistling. Fang covered her face with her hands. They must have seen her and Lightning exchange numbers.

“I’ll see you then, Lightning.”

Not surprisingly, Fang took extremely good care of herself. The day after her last appointment with Lightning, the pair went out for coffee. Naturally, the café caught fire.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.
> 
> If you dropped by my deviantART (link in my profile) last month, you might have seen a list of AUs I’ve thought about doing but never gotten around to. This story is basically an attempt to flesh out one of those AUs. There have always been a lot of jokes about Fang being hot, so why not have her fight fires? And who better to handle the hot stuff (Fang, not the fires) than a doctor like Lightning, cool under pressure and calm under fire.
> 
> I’ll admit there wasn’t all that much fire fighting in this chapter, but I think that’s something I can remedy in the future. Strangely enough, fire fighting is one of the occupations I know the least about, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I make any major mistakes. As a child, it was one of the few things I didn’t want to be. Strangely enough, I did consider taking up medicine all the way through high school. In the end, I decided not to go for it – if I had, I probably would have tried for paediatrics. Kids can be a hassle, but helping them is very rewarding.
> 
> As you can see, the whole gang is here. Lightning and Serah have got the hospital covered while Fang and the others are fire fighters, with Vanille researching things at university. There wasn’t a lot of space here to work them in here (I’m trying to see if I can still write shorter chapters rather than the behemoths I get when I’m writing things like The Vestige), but that’s another thing I can remedy in the future. It would be nice to see Fang in her native habitat, ordering people around and putting out fires.
> 
> If you’ve enjoyed my fan fiction, you might want to have a look at my original fiction too. There is a link to my Amazon author page in my profile.
> 
> As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


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